


Cupid's Arrow

by Morgan (morgan32)



Series: Poisoned Arrow [1]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-12
Updated: 2009-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discord uses one of Cupid's arrows to play a cruel practical joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid's Arrow

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Hercfic list challenge: Cara posted fragments of her incomplete story on Hercfic as a challenge for others to complete it.

The merry laughter of a goddess, unrestrained and slightly crazed, was loud in the large, stone chamber. "Oh," Discord giggled, "this is just too good to ignore."

Ares, not really interested — many things amused Discord, most of them trivial, as far as the War God was concerned — glanced over her shoulder to see what she found so funny. He took in the image in the water and made a sound of disgust. "Discord, get rid of that thing. The last thing I want to see right now is my irritating half-brother."

Discord pouted. "Oh, but Ares, you’ll love this. Look." Ares shrugged and looked closer.

_Iolaus lay close to a small campfire. The hunter’s face was in shadow, turned toward the place where his friend sat and his eyes were closed in sleep. Hercules was sitting with his back against a tree. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked downright uncomfortable. His eyes were fixed on his sleeping companion._

Tension between the two men was very unusual. Ares looked closer, wondering what had caught Discord’s attention. Was the blonde sick? No, he seemed fine. Finally Ares shrugged and turned away. "Alright, Discord, I give up. What’s so funny?"

The dark goddess laughed again. "Can’t you see it? Hercules is in love with him."

Ares looked at Discord with narrowed eyes, wondering if being turned into a chicken had unbalanced her somehow. On second thought, Discord had never been _that_ stable.

"Discord, you’re imagining things. Hercules? The all-hero, all-he-wants-is-a-normal-life-like-a-normal-man Hercules? It can’t be."

Discord merely smiled, somehow managing to look even more sinister smiling than she could in a towering rage. "Just watch them," she said mildly.

***

Iolaus’ golden hair was shining in the moonlight. His broad, powerful chest, covered only by a tattered purple vest, rose and fell with his breath. His eyelids, closed now in a deep sleep, were delicately lined with purple veins. Although they weren’t visible just now, his eyes were very easy to call into one’s mind. They were a beautiful cornflower blue, and extremely memorable. He was surrounded by an aura of strength, but also a tinge of vulnerability.

It was a striking combination. Hercules was leaning against a large tree with his back resting against the trunk. The sound of chirping crickets and the crackling of the fire accompanied his companion’s melodic breathing.

_Gods, he’s beautiful._ Hercules couldn’t help but notice it, in spite of himself. He had vowed a long time ago never to reveal how attracted he was to his friend, and it had never been a real problem. Yes, of course, there were times when he had to turn away from his friend to hide his feelings, and there were times when he said hurtful things to Iolaus because it was either that or throw him down on the ground and fuck his brains out. It did get to the usually sprightly hunter sometimes, but it was a necessary evil. Anyway, Iolaus always forgave, and he almost always forgot.

Looking at Iolaus was driving him crazy, so Hercules stood up and brushed the dirt and grass off of his pants. The demigod meandered over to the lake they were camping near. He looked out over the water, the way the moonlight hit the ripples that were created by the gentle breeze. The simple beauty of it took his breath away.

_I wish Iolaus was awake. He’d love this._ Hercules smiled at the thought. It never seemed to matter whether everything was good or everything was bad. He always wanted Iolaus there with him.

The breathtaking beauty of the moonlit lake concealed the danger within it. Just like Iolaus…

His smile faded. _Stop it Hercules. You can’t keep thinking like this. He’s your friend. Just your friend. What would he think if he knew that I want him so much that I get hard practically every time he touches me?_ The demigod shook his head sadly. _He’d be disgusted. He’d never want to talk to me or see me again._

An image of Iolaus, smiling tiredly, his hair sexily tousled and his entire body exuding an aura of sensuality, flashed in his mind. It was a familiar picture by now, and one that sent a river of combined jealousy and arousal through his whole body. He remembered the incident all too clearly.

Hercules had unwittingly stumbled across Iolaus and a barmaid. They’d been lying on the bed in the room the two friends were going to share that night. They were both nude and it was obvious what they’d been doing. The woman was asleep, but Iolaus’ eyes opened slightly when the demigod had walked in.

Hercules had turned around quickly and walked out, trying to hide how disturbed he was. He’d walked to the front desk and rented his own room for the night. He’d lain awake all night, attempting to figure out his unreasonable reaction to the situation.

_It’s not like it was the first time I’ve ever seen him with a woman. I mean, hey, he’s Iolaus. Women love him. Men love him. But I love him too._ And it was just after that night that he’d realised it. Ever since then, he’d been hiding his feelings and his hard-ons from his friend. He’d been pretty successful so far, despite a few hard-to-explain situations.

Hercules turned away from the lake and walked back to the campsite. He laid down on his bedroll and fell asleep to thoughts of Iolaus.

***

"I see some _real_ possibilities here," Discord mused.

Ares still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Couldn’t believe Discord had been right. He shook his head, moving away from the view, and the meaning of Discord’s dangerous smile became clear. She still wanted revenge against the hunter for the chicken incident.

"You can’t kill him," Ares told her firmly.

Discord’s smile became wider. "I owe Iolaus," she said softly. "And I’m not going to kill him. I have a much better idea." She snapped her fingers. With a flash of light, an arrow appeared in her hand, held delicately between long-nailed fingers.

"The arrow’s not much good without the bow," Ares commented. "And if Artemis finds out you’ve stolen — "

"This isn’t stolen," Discord protested, turning the arrow in her hands. "I won this one in a bet. From Cupid."

_Cupid’s arrow?_ "What good is that going to do?" Hercules was already in love, and if she used the arrow on Iolaus (at least while the two of them were alone together), she’d be doing Hercules a favour. He frowned, giving Discord a searching look. What was her devious mind planning?

Discord turned away from him, her expression secretive. "Trust me, Ares. This is my speciality. You can have some fun with Hercules, if you’ll promise to leave Iolaus to _me_."

"What do you have in mind?" Ares pressed.

"First I’m going to add some…poison…to Cupid’s arrow. Then I’ll decide which one of them makes the better target. You just keep watching, Ares. You’ll see when it’s your turn."

A soft flash of blue light, and the goddess vanished.

***

The sun rose over the hills, leaving a cover of dew on the faces and personal belongings of the two heroes. Slowly, very slowly, the pink was fading from the sky and giving way to a beautiful azure. There were a few clouds, but not enough to lend any significant shade from the burning heat of the ball of fire that was the Earth’s main source of life.

_A perfect day for travelling. I wonder how far it is to the nearest tavern. I’m hungry, and I really don’t feel like fish for breakfast._ Iolaus made a face as he sat up and stretched. He rolled his neck back to work out the kinks before glancing over at Hercules to see if he was awake yet.

He wasn’t. _Not surprising. He never wakes up before me. Well, unless I’ve had a particularly…busy night, that is._ With that thought, Iolaus stood up and headed towards the lake to wash up.

Hercules woke shortly afterwards, shook the fog of sleep from his brain and looked up. The first thing he saw was Iolaus. Totally naked, thigh-deep in the water, shining and golden in the morning sunlight. A thousand tiny droplets of water clung to the hunter’s skin, making his body glisten. Hercules suppressed a groan of pure lust.

Then he realised what he was seeing. Iolaus. In the lake.

Hercules leapt to his feet, yelling a warning.

Iolaus half-turned at the sound, raising a hand in greeting. He heard the warning in Hercules’ shout and wondered what the problem was. Then something yanked on his legs from below the water. The hunter gave an involuntary yell as he lost his balance and fell into the lake with a splash. Ice-cold water, deliciously cool a moment before, panicked him now. By reflex he tried to breathe and found himself inhaling water. He coughed, struggling for air. Felt sudden pain. Curled his body into a ball, hands grabbing for whatever was holding him. His fingers encountered something cold and thick that gave slightly beneath his touch. Then it was gone and warm hands held him strongly. Too panicked to think clearly, Iolaus struggled against those hands. But fighting was useless against such strength and he was drawn from the water. Through a fog of pain and panic he heard Hercules’ voice telling him to breathe.

Hercules’ hand was pushing at his chest. "Breathe, Iolaus. Come on. _Breathe._"

He found himself coughing, retching. His body got rid of a lot of water. He must have swallowed half the lake.

Only when it was over did Iolaus realise the position he was in. Still in the shallows of the lake, no more than six inches of water, he was lying totally naked across Hercules’ legs, while his friend’s arms cradled him tenderly. He couldn’t help being aware of the controlled strength of Hercules. All that power, held in check. It was amazing that he could be gentle.

Iolaus felt embarrassed suddenly. They had never been shy with each other, but this was ridiculous. He squirmed and started to pick himself up. Hercules helped him, grasping both his arms just above the wrists and pulling him to his feet. "Are you alright?" he asked, one hand still resting on Iolaus’ arm.

"I think so…" Iolaus said shakily. He looked down at himself and was shocked to see blood. Rather a lot of blood, running down the outside of one leg. "…Except for this," he added.

Hercules wouldn’t let Iolaus dress until he’d looked at the wound. He knelt in front of Iolaus, probing at the bloody thigh muscle with gentle fingers.

"Herc, it’s nothing, I can barely feel it."

Hercules looked up, his expression worried. "Iolaus…it’s a bite. And it’s deep. If you can’t feel it, it’s probably poisoned."

"That should hurt more, shouldn’t it?"

Hercules shook his head. "Not these water snakes. Their venom paralyses." He was sure he had warned Iolaus about this lake. But the hunter wasn’t stupid. He must have forgotten. Which made this accident _his_ fault. "Iolaus… I should try to get the venom out."

He sounded uncertain, but Iolaus agreed easily. He wasn’t keen on the idea, but he trusted Hercules.

Hercules tried not to think about his lips on Iolaus’ skin as he sucked the venom from the bite. Somehow, he kept his mind on the task. Even so, by the time he had finished, and bandaged the wound, he was hard. Again. He hoped his friend wasn’t aware of it.

Iolaus wasn’t out of danger, yet. Hercules told him they should head for the nearest town, and stay for a few days. He was worried that Iolaus might need a healer. Iolaus seemed agreeable.

"At least an inn will have decent food," was all he said, and they started walking.

Before the first hour was up, Iolaus knew he was in trouble. Hercules’ best efforts hadn’t gotten all of the poison out of his system. The spread of the water-snake’s poison was slowly paralysing the hunter’s body. Iolaus felt it as a spreading numbness, and a lethargy he couldn’t explain. Twice he stumbled on the road, and twice he complained of loose rocks and hid his growing problem from Hercules. The third time, Hercules caught him as he fell and Iolaus couldn’t hide any longer.

"You should have told me," Hercules said. Surprisingly, he didn’t push the subject, just helped Iolaus to walk the rest of the way.

The closeness of the hunter’s body to his, unavoidable because of the need to help him, was torture for Hercules. He found himself walking in considerable discomfort and praying that Iolaus wouldn’t notice his arousal. But overriding his desire for the hunter was fear. Iolaus needed a healer. And a good one. Soon.

Reaching the town, after a half-hours walk that felt like eternity, Hercules lost no time in placing Iolaus in the inn. He made sure the hunter was safely in bed and went in search of a healer.

***

It was mid-afternoon. Discord watched from the stables of the inn. She knew she had to be careful. No mortal would see her, but Hercules would, if he looked her way. She hoped the dark of the stables would hide her.

Hercules emerged from the inn, another man by his side. They were talking — no doubt about Iolaus, though Discord wasn’t interested enough to listen in. Hercules was thanking the man for something. Discord waited impatiently, her bow with its single, valuable arrow ready in her hands.

Finally, the other man left. As Hercules turned to re-enter the inn, Discord had the perfect shot. She took aim quickly. The arrow flew true.

The arrow hit Hercules and dissolved into nothing, as all of Cupid’s arrows did. Hercules spun around, his eyes searching. He had felt…something. A slight movement in the stable caught his eye and he walked that way. But the only things in there were hay and horses. He shrugged to himself, his thoughts turning to Iolaus.

Iolaus.

He was going to be alright.

Iolaus…his naked body glistening in the water…lying helpless across Hercules’ legs…Hercules’ mouth on that satin skin…

_Oh, stop it, Hercules. You’re dreaming. He’s never going to want you._

Iolaus…

***

The day had been frightening.

It hadn’t felt real when it happened. Iolaus remembered feeling pain when he was in the water, but after that he had felt nothing at all. A wound that poured blood like that ought to be painful. Because it wasn’t, it had almost felt like it happened to someone else. After that, after Hercules had (the memory of Hercules’ lips against his skin sparked impure thoughts which he quickly pushed away) treated the bite, Iolaus had felt weak, and maybe a little light-headed, but he’d attributed that to almost drowning in the lake. Until he found that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t feel his leg, couldn’t force the muscles to obey him. He just couldn’t walk.

If Hercules hadn’t been there…

He still felt like hell, physically. His wounded leg was still completely numb. The rest of him felt pretty weak. That would pass, the healer had assured him. It was a normal side-effect of the poison. In fact, he had said, Iolaus was lucky Hercules had treated the bite so quickly. Normally the paralysis killed. But Iolaus was still alive, and the healer had known and administered the antidote.

So, physical weakness aside, Iolaus’ irrepressible spirit was beginning to re-assert itself. Spending a couple of days here wouldn’t be too bad. That barmaid he’d spotted as they arrived might make the stay worthwhile…

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Iolaus reached for his leather pants. Actually getting them on took some effort. Iolaus struggled with them for ages. His wounded leg simply wouldn’t obey him. Even when he managed to get that leg into his pants, keeping his balance long enough to get the other leg in was a production in itself. Eventually he managed to drag the leather past his ass and lay back on the bed. Gods, he must look a sight! He tried to imagine what he would have looked like, and suddenly the ridiculousness of this whole situation overwhelmed him. Uncontrollable laughter welled up and he began to giggle.

It was at that moment that Hercules walked in.

Iolaus, still laughing, struggled to get up. "Hey, Herc!" he greeted his friend enthusiastically. "The healer says I’m gonna be okay." By steadying himself against the wall, he was able to take a few steps toward the demigod.

Hercules grabbed his startled friend by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall.

"Herc, what are you — ?" Iolaus began, confused. His words were cut off when he saw the look in the demigod’s eyes. There was a intense, mad passion in them that chilled Iolaus to the core.

"I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to do it hard, and I’m going to do it now."

The hunter stared at Hercules wide-eyed. He stood, speechless, not comprehending his friend’s words. His mind simply could not accept this. Everything became a swirl of movement, too much happening too quickly. Iolaus felt his pants being ripped from his body, found himself being tossed carelessly onto the straw mattress. He waited, unable to move, for what seemed like eternity, his face pressed into the harsh linens that the inn had supplied.

Iolaus heard the sound of Hercules undressing: the demigod’s heavy pants hitting the floor, with dazed incomprehension. He felt an impossible amount of weight settle on top of him, and he knew his friend, naked now too, was straddling his thighs. _You’re not really gonna do this, are you, Herc?_

He felt Hercules’ hard cock straining against the sensitive skin between his buttocks. Hercules’ hands were flattened against the backs of his shoulders, holding him down and Iolaus could feel the calluses on them, rubbing harshly against his skin. Then Hercules was pushing into him, and there was no lubrication to alleviate the pain of the dry skin rubbing against his insides.

It was a matter of minutes, but to Iolaus it felt like hours.

Hercules exploded inside of him, and Iolaus was empty and alone.

***

Discord, feeling _very_ pleased with herself, watched unseen as the demigod abandoned the hunter and left the room.

Beside her, Ares was looking unusually thoughtful. It _was_ amusing — to see his insufferably smug brother a slave to his lusts. But somehow, watching the demigod rape Iolaus hadn’t been as exciting as he would have expected. That fact had some disturbing implications, but Ares didn’t have time to address that right now…

"Ooh, that was _fun_!" Discord crowed. She turned away from the images and grinned at Ares. "Hercules is all yours, Ares." She gave an evil laugh. "When he realises what he’s done, he’ll be ripe for whatever you’ve got planned for him. I’m going to have some fun with his little pal."

"What exactly are you planning, Discord?" _Why did her words make him so uneasy?_

"Well, put it this way, lover: Iolaus’ nightmare is just beginning." With that cryptic statement, Discord vanished.

Ares sighed. Discord could be a vengeful bitch. He _liked_ that in a woman, though. She had been right about one thing: she was _very_ good at what she did. Discord didn’t have much power of her own. Not by comparison with the other gods. Her talent was for twisting and distorting what the other gods could do. Hence the incident with Artemis’ bow: not one of her better efforts. Cupid should have known better than to wager an arrow with Discord…

Iolaus hadn’t moved.

Had Hercules killed him? It was certainly possible. Ares looked closer at the figure on the bed. If the little blonde was dead, he could _really_ have some fun with his brother. After a few moments. Ares was reassured. The hunter was alive. In shock, probably, but he would live.

Ares wondered why he felt relieved by that.

(_"Put it this way, lover: Iolaus’ nightmare is just beginning."_)

Iolaus’ days were numbered in any case. Discord wouldn’t kill him, at least not directly, but by the time she was finished with him there wouldn’t be enough left of his mind to call him alive.

Unless…

But Iolaus — and Discord — would wait. Time to find Hercules.

***

Hercules was sitting on the floor of his room, leaning against the wall. The room was dark, as Hercules hadn’t lit the lantern when he’d come in. His eyes were red from crying, and he was trying to fit together pieces of the night. He didn’t understand what he’d done or why he’d done it. He just knew that he’d wanted Iolaus, and he’d taken him. Without Iolaus’ permission.

_And now he hates me. He’ll never be able to forgive me for this. I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could change everything. Oh, Zeus. I can’t believe I did this. He’s my friend. No, _Hercules corrected himself bitterly, _he was my friend. I’ve ruined everything._

"I wondered how long it would take you."

Hercules didn’t need a light in the room to know who was speaking. He should have guessed his brother would turn up now. But he wasn’t in the mood for a sparring match. "Get out, Ares."

I don’t think so, brother." Ares stepped delicately over Hercules outstretched legs and lounged on the bed. "This could be a turning point for you." With patently false sympathy, the War God added, "I want to lend my support."

Hercules looked up, hatred burning in his blue eyes. "I should have known. _You_ did this to me."

Ares laughed. "Oh, no, brother. Believe me, I wish I’d thought of it. But I had nothing to do with it."

Hercules hesitated. Ares was an expert at twisting the truth, but he wasn’t a liar. Then he realised the god had left a loophole there. "Then you know who did," he answered.

Ares rested his bearded chin on both fists and leaned forward to gaze at Hercules. "It makes you feel better, does it, to think that someone else is to blame for your feelings? Even though you’ve been lusting after the little man for months? Every time he touches you, or even smiles at you, you’re hard. You wanted him. Now you’ve had him. Why can’t you accept, brother, that it might have been just _you_."

"I would never — "

"What? Lose control? Use that god-given strength of yours the way it was intended — to dominate these pathetic mortals as a god should? Why don’t we ask your little friend what _he_ thinks you’re capable of?"

Hercules almost rose to that one. But he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. "Say what you came to say, Ares." _Then leave me alone._

"Okay," said Ares agreeably. He sat up on the bed, looking down at Hercules. His brother’s pain was delicious, almost aphrodisiac. Such a pity Discord’s "poison" wouldn’t last. The idea of having Hercules permanently in this state had such potential… Still, the poison should be good for a few days. There was still time to get the most out of this entertainment.

"Your problem," he explained to Hercules, "is that you were raised among mortals. You’re half god, _brother_. You’ve got all the drives of a god…"

"Do you have a point?"

Ares vanished. To reappear a moment later sitting beside Hercules on the ground. "You want something — or someone — you take it. Why not? Any other god would. Don’t deny what you are, _brother_. Oh, and…" the god’s teeth glinted white in the darkness as he smiled, "if you like to play rough, you can always call on me. We’ll talk again."

A shower of red and gold sparks, and Ares was gone.

Every fibre of his being wanted to deny the truth of Ares’ words.

_Iolaus, laughing at some private joke, his cheeks flushed, a truly gorgeous smile on his face, half-naked on the bed — his friendly greeting — a wave of lust stronger than anything Hercules had ever known swept over him — he stepped toward Iolaus, reaching for the body that was driving him crazy…_

Iolaus hadn’t fought him. But Hercules’ innate honesty wouldn’t permit him to use that as an excuse. Iolaus was sick. Iolaus could barely stand. How _could_ he have fought?

With growing horror, Hercules remembered what he had done. He hadn’t asked, he had ordered. His lust-fevered mind taking lack of refusal for consent, he had ripped the pants from Iolaus’ body and his own. He hadn’t even tried to be gentle, or to prepare Iolaus for the invasion. It must have hurt him horribly.

And Hercules had enjoyed it.

That was the worst thing. He had wanted Iolaus for so long, finally laying claim to that beautiful body felt like coming home. The best sex of his life…and it had been rape.

Rape.

Hercules’ mind shied away from that ugly word, but he forced himself to face it, punishing himself with it in the only way he could.

He had raped Iolaus.

He remembered thrusting into the tight, hot body of his friend and felt a wave of self-disgust as his cock began to swell anew. He still wanted Iolaus. He wanted him _now._

Hercules was halfway to the door before he caught himself. _What am I doing?_ The demigod sank to the ground again, despair filling his heart.

(_"You want something, you take it. Any god would."_)

He couldn’t stay here. Ares had been right. He would do it again if he stayed.

The only way Hercules could protect Iolaus was to leave. Now. He knew his disappearance would only make the hunter feel worse. He knew Iolaus’ generous soul at least that well. But really, he had no choice. He couldn’t face Iolaus: he might lose control again.

Hercules rose and walked out of his room blindly. As he passed the inn’s taproom he paused, hearing voices inside and wondering if he should leave some sort of message for his friend. But what could he possibly say now that the hunter would want to hear?

He stumbled out of the inn into the darkness beyond.

***

Iolaus woke suddenly, as if from a nightmare. The room was dark (surely he’d left the torch burning?) and cold and unnaturally quiet. He was naked and shivering. And in pain.

…pain.

_Hercules’ hard cock straining against the sensitive skin between his buttocks…Hercules’ hands flattened against his shoulders…holding him down…rubbing harshly against his skin…Hercules pushing into him…raping him…_

Iolaus shook his head in denial of the impossible memory. He raised a hand to his face, and found he couldn’t. He tried to sit up. And couldn’t. He discovered he was chained: cold iron around his wrists and ankles. Then he felt a hand running through his curls. A comforting touch. He could feel the light scrape of fingernails, so he knew it was a woman’s hand.

_No. This has got to be a dream._

As if to confirm his guess, the scene changed. Suddenly there was daylight shining through the shuttered window, leaving a pattern of light and shadow across his nakedness. He still couldn’t move. Iolaus craned his neck, trying to look above his head. The chains at his wrists had become leather. His own belts.

Strong hands forced his legs widely apart. Iolaus’ eyes were wide with shock and he looked down his body. He had been alone an instant before.

Now Hercules was there, kneeling naked between Iolaus’ painfully spread thighs, one of the demigod’s big hands playing idly with his erect cock.

_Oh gods, Herc, no._

Hercules grasped Iolaus by his hips, lifting him. His cock sought the opening to Iolaus’ body. Iolaus struggled futilely against his bonds. Then there was only pain as Hercules impaled him. Iolaus screamed. Hercules laughed. There was a demonic light in the demigod’s eyes as he thrust mercilessly into Iolaus’ helpless body. Iolaus stared at the ceiling, concentrated on it, trying to send his mind away from the pain, noting every tiny imperfection in the wooden beam above…

The scene shifted again. Iolaus found it hard to breathe as the demigod’s weight pressed into his chest. Hercules was straddling him, his huge, purple erection less than an inch from Iolaus’ face.

"Open your mouth," Hercules ordered.

Iolaus closed his eyes and clenched his jaw shut defiantly. _Hercules, **WHY**?_ he wanted to scream. Didn’t dare.

Fingers thrust into his mouth, forcing his teeth apart. Hercules’ cock thrust into his mouth. One of the demigod’s hands clutched his hair painfully, forcing Iolaus to keep his head still while Hercules fucked him. Iolaus gagged and choked. The relentless attack never stopped.

"Mine," Hercules grunted. His thrusts were getting faster, each one deeper into Iolaus’ throat. "You are nothing," he taunted. "Nothing. You are mine to use or throw away or kill. You pathetic piece of mortal shit."

As Iolaus’ mind desperately grappled with those words, the scene shifted again.

He was on his knees, bent over a tree stump. A callused hand at the back of his neck held him down. Rough bark chaffed his bare skin raw. Another hand roughly fondled his genitals. He thought he felt the scrape of long fingernails again, but it was Hercules’ voice that spoke.

"Oh, very nice," said the demigod mockingly. "But you’re not hard. You should be hard for me, Iolaus."

And suddenly, impossibly, he was. Painfully hard.

"Much better," the demigod approved, and Iolaus felt Hercules’ hard cock beginning to push into his anus again.

_No…oh, please, Hercules, don’t…please…_

"I love it when you beg," said Hercules.

_ **PAIN.** _

***

Dawn. An isolated glade on the side of a mountain. Hercules’ yellow shirt was damp with dew, lying on the grass where he had left it. A short distance away was the shirt’s owner. His body was shining with sweat in the dawn light as he moved, twirling a makeshift staff in his hands as if fighting an enemy only he could see. In a way, he was, but this morning the enemy was within himself, the feelings and the awful knowledge he could no longer deny.

The goddess who appeared behind him watched for a few moments admiringly. The play of muscles beneath the demigod’s bronzed skin…such a shame he wasn’t a full god. Then Hercules turned and saw her there. He stopped, surprised, lowering the staff to the ground. The exercise had tired even him: he was breathing hard.

"Hey, Herc!" Aphrodite greeted him chirpily. "Working off a few frustrations?" She gave him an evil wink. "Or did the invisible man tick you off?"

Aphrodite’s humour could be irritating at the best of times. And her words were a little too close to the truth for comfort. Hercules was in no mood to chat with anyone from that side of his family. He tossed the staff aside and reached down for his shirt. "Not now, Aphrodite."

"Great to see you, too, bro." Aphrodite moved toward him. "I wanted to give you the good news first but…" she shrugged and the light in her eyes dimmed a little, "turns out there isn’t any. Herc, you’ve got to help Curly."

Iolaus. At the mention of the hunter, Hercules turned away. He pulled on the damp shirt: it was cool next to his skin. "I’m the last person Iolaus wants to see," he said dejectedly.

"I know. Ares told me what happened."

Hercules’ head jerked up at his sister’s words but he didn’t turn to face her. _Great, so now I’m the latest gossip on Olympus. What does Aphrodite want? To yell at me for touching her "Sweetcheeks"?_

"Herc, it’s a major bummer, I know, but I’m not here about that. You still care about Sweetcheeks, don’t you?" The sympathy in her voice sounded genuine.

Hercules did turn around then. "Of course I do!"

"Then _listen_ to me. Discord took him."

"Discord?" Hercules repeated. This conversation, not what he’d expected, was moving a little fast.

Aphrodite seemed really worried. "She hates him, Herc. You’ve got to help him."

She was right. Discord was a sadistic soul and she had every reason, by her own twisted logic, to hate Iolaus. "Where?" he asked.

"I don’t _know_!. When Ares came to me I tried to check on Sweetcheeks. Dis took him from the inn."

Nothing like danger to sharpen the mind. All the emotional baggage was pushed away as Hercules focussed on the immediate issue. Iolaus was in danger. Iolaus needed him. "She’ll have gone to that castle she claimed. Aphrodite, can you take me there?"

***

The darkness rolled back and Iolaus was aware of himself again.

He was lying on his back (gods, that hurt so much), cold, damp stone beneath him. His arms (the pain in one of his shoulders was very bad) were stretched above his head, his wrists secured with chains (or ropes, or belts…he couldn’t tell any more). He was fully dressed (strange…?). The room was a huge chamber: the roof above him was high and vaulted. From his position, Iolaus could see dawn light through a single, arrow-slit window.

What in Hades was happening?

(_No…oh, please, Hercules…_)

Okay. Wrong question. Where am I?

His mind, fogged by pain, confused by nightmares and nightmarish reality, could form the question, but could only grope blindly after an answer. He stuck with that question, though. It was less painful than the other one.

Some time later (he knew it was later, because the light was brighter) he heard the sounds of a fight in the distance. Familiar sounds. _Hercules,_ he thought. His stomach clenched with fear. _Why…?_ …but he thought better of the question before it was fully formed. He heard a shout. A crash. Then the familiar voice of his friend (?) calling his name.

"Iolaus! Are you alright?" As the demigod came into view, falling to his knees beside the chained Iolaus, for a moment the hunter felt overwhelming relief. Herc was here to save him. Everything would be fine, now. Then…

(_"I’m going to fuck you…"_)

Oh gods, that can’t be real.

(_"I love it when you beg."_)

Hercules reached above his head to break the chains. Iolaus’ instinctively shied away, his skin crawling at the demigod’s touch. As the last of the chains fell away from his ankle, Hercules offered a hand to help him up. Iolaus hesitated, shocked and confused to realise that he was afraid of his best friend.

There was a blinding flash of light, and an all-too-familiar, female voice, said, "He’s mine."

Hercules faced the speaker grimly. "Discord," he said, his voice cold. "What have you done to him?"

The goddess shrugged and gave a smile of pure spite. "Nothing you didn’t do first."

(…?!!)

Her answer seemed to faze Hercules, but only for a moment. "Get out of my way, Discord. I’m taking Iolaus out of here."

"You’re welcome to try."

With an inarticulate roar, Hercules attacked.

Discord blocked his punch with a merry laugh. "You’re too late, Hercules. _He’s mine._"

Then the demigod’s hand closed about her slim throat, so fast she hadn’t seen it coming. "What. Did. You. Do?"

Discord — a goddess doesn’t need to breathe — replied calmly, "I already told you."

Hercules hit her, the impact of his super-mortal strength sending her flying across the chamber.

Iolaus watched, bemused. He couldn’t think. He saw everything through fog.

Hercules leapt after the dark goddess, landing blow after blow with incredible ferocity.

Iolaus remembered he was unchained and tried to get up. He managed to get his feet under him, but as he stood, the room started spinning. He stumbled to the nearest wall, leaning against the stones for support. Dark swirls moved in front of his eyes. For a moment he thought he was going to black out.

When he could see again, Discord and Hercules were facing each other, a body’s-length space between them. Iolaus knew what was coming. He tried to shout a warning but his voice turned out to be a faint croak.

Discord’s emerald eyes flashed mercury and she lashed out viciously — not with her body, but with her power. Hercules fell back under that onslaught. Somehow, he turned his fall into a roll and regained his balance. But instead of completing the manoeuvre, as Iolaus had seen him do countless times, ending up back on his feet, Hercules was struggling, unable, somehow, to stand.

What had Discord done to him?

Discord took instant advantage. Iolaus watched, helpless as a crackling bolt of energy passed from her hand to Hercules. Hercules twisted to avoid it: too late. He fell.

"Hercules!" It should have been a scream. It was barely a whisper.

Discord turned very slowly to face her prisoner. Iolaus recoiled from the malice in her expression. In that moment, Discord’s eyes made Hera look positively compassionate. "Your turn, lover," she hissed.

Iolaus looked at the unmoving body of his friend. He waited.

Discord began to move toward him.

Suddenly, a shower of golden sparkles appeared between Iolaus and the vengeful goddess. The sparkles coalesced into the barely-clad figure of Aphrodite.

Through clenched teeth, Discord said, "You’re interfering."

Aphrodite’s laugh was possibly the most welcome sound Iolaus had ever heard. "You got it, Dis," Aphrodite chuckled. "Now get out of here, babe. Ares won’t help you this time."

"I can take you without his help."

"I think not, honey. You’d better start running. If you’ve killed his favourite boy, Zeus will be looking for you."

Amazingly, Discord caved. "Fine. I’ve had my fun, anyway." The cold green eyes turned to Iolaus briefly. "See you around, _Sweetcheeks._" She vanished.

Aphrodite hurried to Hercules’ side. The demigod still hadn’t moved. She looked up at Iolaus. "Coming, Sweetcheeks? Or would you rather wait for Dis to come back for you?"

Iolaus couldn’t think. But he recognised an order when he heard one. Automatically, he moved to Aphrodite’s side.

***

Aphrodite’s hand on his shoulder sent a tingling throughout Iolaus’ body. As she withdrew her hand, he realised he was no longer in pain. He looked down at himself. His wrists, bruised and bleeding a moment before were whole, the skin pale and undamaged.

Iolaus looked up, to see the goddess smiling. "Better, Sweetcheeks?"

"Yeah…thanks." Iolaus looked around. "Where are we?" A small room with a single, large bed and a fire burning merrily in the hearth. There was a window — with glass! — that overlooked an expanse of green meadows.

"Somewhere you’ll be safe," Aphrodite answered mysteriously. The place was one of Aphrodite’s favourite love-nests: an isolated two-room cottage that — thanks to the patronage of the goddess of love — was always clean, always fully stocked with everything a mortal might need…and always available. It was also, as she told Iolaus, safe from the other gods’ attention. She turned her attention to Hercules.

The demigod lay on the bed, his eyes closed. At least he was breathing. But the wound across his chest where Discord’s energy bolt had hit him looked nasty. Iolaus took a couple of deep breaths, trying to pull together the threads of his memories. A little calmer, a little more focussed, he looked again at Hercules. This wasn’t good.

"Can you heal him, Aphrodite?"

She turned impossibly blue eyes on him. "Sorry, Sweetcheeks, but I can’t. It’s the work of another god. Nothing I can do."

"But…"

"He’ll heal, Sweetpea. It might take a while, though."

Aphrodite was obviously expecting Iolaus to play nursemaid to Hercules. The hunter wasn’t sure why he was reluctant. He would help his best friend without a second thought.

(_"I’m going to fuck you."_)

(_"No…oh, please, Hercules, don’t…"_)

No! It couldn’t have been real. It was Discord. Her invention. Her idea of fun. Discord wanted to drive him insane, and she’d used an image of Hercules to do it.

Iolaus clung to the explanation, while his own rational memory insisted it wasn’t true.

In utter confusion, he raised both hands to the sides of his head, turning away from Aphrodite and Hercules both. Tears welled up in his eyes and he had no chance to stop them. He took a breath and it became a sob. "Oh, gods. What happened to me?"

He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and looked up into Aphrodite’s uncharacteristically serious gaze. "I can show you what was real and what wasn’t," she offered hesitantly. "But you won’t thank me for it, Curly. Better to leave it alone, huh?"

"No." Iolaus shook his head miserably. "I’ll go crazy thinking about this. Help me. Please? I have to know."

***

He had learned to separate mind from emotion, a long time ago in the East. For three days, Iolaus moved about the two-room cottage mechanically. He was attentive in his care of Hercules, but there was a distance in his actions: his patient could have been anyone. Under Iolaus’ ministrations, the demigod’s wound began to heal, though Hercules did not regain consciousness for some time. With little to do while Hercules was healing, Iolaus spent a great deal of time staring into space, alone with his chaotic thoughts.

He didn’t understand it.

Hercules had _never_ wanted him. Iolaus had had male lovers in the past, when he was much younger. But Iolaus and Hercules — just friends. Had the demigod wanted Iolaus, all he’d ever had to do was show it: Iolaus would have been his without a second thought.

Why had Hercules taken him by force?

It wasn’t the act of a friend, was it?

On the third day, Hercules woke.

Iolaus brought him water, when he asked for it and sat silent while he drank.

"Where are we?" Hercules asked him.

"Aphrodite’s place. She said we can stay here as long as you need."

Hercules felt awkward. He had no idea what to say to his friend (_At least, I hope he’s still my friend_). He remembered the night in the inn with overwhelming guilt. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, he tried to apologise to Iolaus.

"Sorry?" Iolaus repeated. He sounded genuinely confused. "Sorry for what, Hercules?"

Hercules looked down, ashamed. "For…hurting you. I know I did. Iolaus…"

"You can’t even say it. Gods, Hercules!" This was a mistake, Iolaus realised suddenly. He would never be able to talk to Hercules again. He was on his feet, shouting. "You didn’t ‘hurt’ me, you forced me. _Raped_ me. What I want to know is why."

"Why…?"

"Yes! Why?"

How was he supposed to explain the inexplicable? He didn’t understand why himself. "I…I wanted you," the demigod stammered, knowing as he said it that it was the worst possible reply. "No, that’s not it. I needed you. I couldn’t help myself, Iolaus."

"_Needed me._" Iolaus repeated. "What’s that supposed to mean, Hercules? If you needed a fuck that badly you could have done any local whore. We used to be friends."

And Iolaus walked out of the room, slamming the door.

Hercules leaned back against his pillows, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened. He had deserved that. In fact, he deserved a lot worse. He looked down at the wound in his chest. It didn’t look so bad, but he always did heal rapidly. How bad had it been? Discord had intended to kill him, he knew that much. Very bad, then. And Iolaus had taken care of him.

Iolaus had taken care of him.

Why?

He knew why. Because Iolaus’ unselfish, beautiful soul wouldn’t allow him to do anything else.

And the full enormity of what Hercules had done came crashing in. Other people considered Hercules a hero. He was honest enough with himself to know that much of the acclaim had to do with him being the son of Zeus: there was more to his godly heritage than just his strength.

The strength he had used against his best friend.

Who was the real hero.

Always at his side. Always following Hercules, even when he took them to places or into situations he didn’t want to go. Always loyal. A hero, with or without Hercules. Self-sufficient, infinitely brave, resourceful…gorgeous. It wasn’t the demigod who was the strength of their partnership.

Their partnership. Hercules had destroyed it.

Iolaus would never forgive him for this.

And only now, when it was too late, did Hercules truly understand what he had lost.

***

Iolaus leaned back against the stone wall of the cottage and wept. Silent tears poured down his cheeks. He couldn’t have stopped them if he’d tried.

When Iolaus had been a boy of about seven, he had accidentally broken a bowl that belonged to his mother. It had been special to her: there was a picture on the inside of it. The accident had earned him a beating from his father, but that wasn’t the part he remembered. He had secretly gathered together the shards of pottery, and stayed awake all that night, his only light the tiny stubs of candles his mother would have thrown out, trying to fix the bowl. But the damage had been too great: no matter how long he laboured, Iolaus hadn’t been able to make the picture come right.

That was how he felt right now. But it wasn’t a bowl that had shattered. It was his life. And no matter how hard he tried, the broken pieces wouldn’t fit together again.

He wanted to hate Hercules.

If anyone else had treated him that way, Iolaus would have hated him. But to put that emotion together with his best friend’s name caused him such pain, such awful emptiness, that he stopped trying.

He wanted to leave. Walk away, so he could start trying to repair his shattered soul. It wasn’t in his nature to run away.

What was left?

A soft flash of light caught his eye. Iolaus was instantly alert, a hand reaching for a weapon. He was expecting to see Discord. But it was another goddess — and this one no threat — that he saw.

"C’mon, Sweetcheeks," Aphrodite said, holding out a hand. "It’s time you and I had a talk."

This situation had presented Aphrodite with a major problem. The goddess of love had known for a long time that Hercules was in love with Iolaus. She’d probably known longer than Hercules had. She even knew — as Hercules did not — that Iolaus returned his feelings. It would only have taken a little push to make them both realise it. It would have happened, eventually. _If no one interfered._

She wanted to tell Iolaus that Hercules hadn’t been himself that night. But she wasn’t allowed to lie, and all she had was suspicion. Then again, Iolaus knew as well as she how impossible it was for Hercules to rape someone. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it.

When they had walked a short distance from the cottage, Aphrodite stopped, looking back at the tiny building. She made a vague gesture that was supposed to point that way. "He loves you, you know," she said.

Iolaus shook his head. "I used to think so. But you don’t rape someone you love."

The goddess made an irritated sound. "Sweetcheeks, I _know _that. But I’m telling you, that’s what happened." With uncharacteristic patience, Aphrodite reminded Iolaus of the sacrifices they had each made for the other: all the adventures, all the dangers they had shared. Iolaus remembered their early adventures, both of them trying to find their places in the world, and forging a bond between themselves that the greatest tragedies, and even death, had not overcome.

Once, Iolaus had even flaunted a male lover in front of his demigod friend, hoping in his naïve way, that it would make Hercules realise they didn’t have to be just friends. If anything, it had made them even more "just friends" than before. Yet there had been times…the most memorable in Hercules’ barn just before they’d gone off to fight the minotaur. Iolaus had fantasies for months afterward about what might have happened if Deianeira and Ilea hadn’t walked in.

"Okay," Iolaus admitted finally. "I know I used to think…maybe… But what do you want from me, Aphrodite? Do you think I can just go back there and pretend it never happened?"

A slow shake of her head, the golden curls tumbling enticingly. "I want to hear you say there’s a chance you two can work this out."

_But it would be a lie._ Iolaus bowed his head. "I can’t."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

Iolaus had been asking himself the same question. "Hercules saved my life. I owed him the same."

"Well, he’s okay now, Sweetcheeks. You can go. I’ll take it from here."

"Only if you can prove to me your nursing is better than your archery."

She laughed. "See! You _do_ care."

"No." He set his jaw stubbornly.

"You still love him, Curly. Or you wouldn’t be here."

Iolaus gasped.

The truth of Aphrodite’s statement pierced his heart as surely as one of Cupid’s arrows. However badly Iolaus had been hurt, Hercules was still the centre of his life, and he always would be. Iolaus had committed his life to the demigod when they were kids. He had to turn away from Aphrodite. He walked away from her a few paces, staring off into the distance.

(_"You still love him, Curly."_)

(_"I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to do it hard, and I’m going to do it now."_)

(_"Pathetic piece of mortal shit."_)

"Why are you doing this, Aphrodite? You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble here. What’s the point?"

It was the goddess’ turn to look away. She shouldn’t answer that question. "You would have left him. I had to do something. You see…the two of you are supposed to be together."

Iolaus went white. "You mean…as lovers?" He swallowed. That had to be what she meant. Why else would she consider it her business?

Aphrodite gave him a dazzling smile. "As two men who love each other. The details are up to you now, Sweetcheeks."

He blinked and she was gone.

***

When he heard the door open and close again, Hercules silently thanked every god he could think of. If Iolaus had returned there was at least hope.

He could hear the hunter moving around in the other room. He tried to wait, wanted Iolaus to come to him. But finally the tension was too much for him, and he got out of bed. He had taken two steps toward the door when he swayed, his head spinning. Gods, he felt weak. He had thought he was healing. The rest of his progress across the room took longer. Eventually, he managed to push the door open, leaning weakly against the doorframe.

Iolaus saw the door open and looked up. "Hercules? Are you alright?" Concern was written all over his face.

_I must look worse than I thought,_ the demigod thought wryly. He managed a smile: just seeing that Iolaus cared enough to ask was more healing than anything. But what he said was, "I need to talk to you, Iolaus."

Iolaus’ concern was replaced by a grim look. He turned his back on Hercules, walked to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. Hercules, not sure what else to do, took the other chair. It put the table between them.

"So talk," Iolaus said.

Now that the moment had come, Hercules didn’t know what to say. He ran a shaking hand through his long hair and looked at Iolaus, trying to meet his friend’s eyes. Iolaus didn’t look at him.

"You asked me why," he began. "The truth is, I don’t know. I just…" He swallowed. "Gods, I’m sorry, Iolaus. I am so sorry. I can’t explain it. I can’t excuse it. I know you can’t forgive me, but…"

"Stop." A single word, softly spoken. Iolaus looked up, meeting his friend’s eyes for the first time since the rape. He was shocked, as always, by how blue they were, how startlingly beautiful. Windows to the soul, brim-full of confusion, sincerity and regret.

"Hercules," Iolaus said, still speaking very softly, "I can’t think of anything you have done or could do to me that I can’t forgive. Our friendship is worth that much to me. If you need to hear me say it, then okay. I forgive you, Hercules. But this isn’t about forgiveness. It’s about trust."

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

Iolaus shook his head. "It is for you, I know. Not for me. Try to understand, Herc. I couldn’t hurt you, physically, if I wanted to. Whereas you could kill me with a single punch. I’ve known that since the first time I felt that strength of yours, and all these years I’ve trusted you not to turn that against me. I don’t know if I can do that anymore." _And if I can’t trust** Hercules**…? What’s the point?_

Iolaus’ voice fell silent. His eyes shone with tears.

Tears that were mirrored, unshed, in Hercules’ eyes. "Please…that can’t be the last word. Anything I can do…or say…" The tears overflowed and his throat constricted painfully. It was impossible to speak.

"One question, Herc. I need to hear the truth, okay?"

Hercules nodded. Beneath the table, his fist clenched tightly. He dreaded what Iolaus might ask. But Iolaus was saying nothing, and Hercules realised he had to speak first. "The truth. I promise. What do you want to know?"

"What was going on? Then, and now."

(Aphrodite’s words, _"He loves you, you know."_)

Iolaus needed to know.

Hercules floundered helplessly. "I don’t know where to start."

"Try the beginning."

"That’s just it. I don’t know when it started. It just got to the point where I couldn’t…couldn’t look at you without wanting you. Iolaus, I knew you didn’t want me. So I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t have the strength to walk away, but it got harder and harder to be around you. You…I…So many times, I would see you and want you so much I can’t tell you… But I never did it. Until that night."

Hercules ran his hand through his hair again. "I saw you there, on that bed, and I just had to… I can’t explain any better than that. I’ve asked myself over and over why I lost control, when I’ve controlled myself so many other times. I don’t know."

He couldn’t look at Iolaus any more. It hurt too much. Hercules turned his chair slightly away. "And even after what I did to you, you’ve saved my life, again. And you’re still here. You are…incredible, Iolaus. I’ve hurt you over and over, and you still stay with me. I don’t think I ever quite realised before how much that means to me. I’ve taken you for granted. But now I know. I know you are so much more than what I thought. Iolaus…I dreamed of you. I craved you. Now I know I need you."

_Gods, listen to me. How selfish can I get?_

Hercules looked at Iolaus again, meeting his eyes in a desperate plea for understanding. "Please believe me. If you can give me the chance to prove myself, I won’t do anything to betray your trust. I need you."

Iolaus had listened to this speech in silence. It had always been hard for Hercules to give voice to his feelings. To hear the demigod open up like that was astounding. "What… what are you trying to say, Herc?" he asked, nervously.

(_"Two men who love each other."_)

_The truth…_ "I want…I want to be with you. To love you. To make love with you. But I…what I _need_ is your friendship." Hercules instinctively reached across the table toward Iolaus. Iolaus tensed just a little and Hercules withdrew his hand. "Please, Iolaus, just please don’t shut me out. I can take anything else, but not that. I can’t lose you. I can live with being just friends, but not losing you altogether. That would be more than I can handle."

Iolaus looked down and quietly answered his friend. "I don’t think I could be without you either."

When he looked up Hercules could see the blush creeping onto his friend’s fair skin. "What — what are you saying? Iolaus, do you mean that — that we could be…uh, you know. You know." The demigod said this in a hushed tone, barely daring to hope.

"Herc, this is going to take time. I don’t know yet. But maybe. Maybe."

(_"The details are up to you."_)

***

#### Epilogue: Some weeks later.

Iolaus was dreaming.

In the dream, they were back at the lakeside where all the trouble had started. It was night: in the moonlight the lake was still and silver as a mirror. Unable to sleep, Iolaus turned over on his blanket, opened his eyes and looked around for Hercules. After a few moments he saw him: the demigod’s large form a black silhouette against the silver lake. Iolaus smiled to himself and rose, walking silently across the grass to where Hercules stood.

"It’s beautiful," he commented.

Hercules hadn’t been aware of his approach until Iolaus spoke. The demigod turned to look at him, an odd smile quirking his lips. "No," he said, his voice hoarse, almost as if he didn’t have enough breath. "_You’re_ beautiful."

Iolaus opened his mouth to speak, a light remark on the tip of his tongue.

"Iolaus…" Hercules began. He sounded strangely nervous. He reached for Iolaus’ hand. "I should have told you this a long time ago. I love you."

Dreaming, Iolaus didn’t hesitate. He closed the small distance between them, moving closer until their bodies almost touched. He looked up, meeting the demigod’s earnest gaze, his impossibly blue eyes. "Really, Herc?" Iolaus whispered. "Show me." Then he closed his eyes, waiting for the kiss.

The sensation of Hercules’ mouth on his was like nothing he had ever experienced. They touched, they melted, they melded. Hercules’ tongue pushed between his lips and Iolaus welcomed it eagerly, sucking on that warm invader with rising passion. When finally their mouths drew apart, Iolaus was surprised to find he was lying down, that his purple vest was gone and the grass, somehow softer than any bed, was tickling the skin of his back. "Hercules…?" he murmured.

"Do you love me, Iolaus?"

"Yes. Oh, gods, yes."

There were no more words between them. Hands fumbled clumsily for clothes, rapidly discarding them. Undressing was briefly awkward, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t last. Then Hercules’ arms were around him, holding him, his hands caressing him…

_Yes. Oh, gods, Herc, yes._

…and Iolaus woke, to find himself in the rough tavern bed, exactly where he had fallen asleep. He also had a massive hard-on. Hardly surprising, after a dream like that.

He glanced across the room. Hercules was there, sleeping. The demigod’s long hair spilled across his pillow. A narrow beam of moonlight shone across his face. Unable to resist, Iolaus slipped out of his bed, standing to get a better view of his sleeping friend. He stayed there for a long time, until the chill of the night air forced him back to bed.

Even then, he lay awake, the images of the dream still with him.

_Yes,_ Iolaus decided. _Maybe._


End file.
